


Tacky

by Fire_Bear



Series: Sticky [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: (I'm not entirely sure what else to tag this as), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Disappointment, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting to Know Each Other, Groping, Heartache, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Ice Cream, Kissing, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-07 03:22:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14662266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Bear/pseuds/Fire_Bear
Summary: Despite his misgivings, Arthur has stayed with Kiku for almost a month since the events in the restaurant. Now, Herakles has turned up on the doorstep and Arthur can't handle staying in the flat as they talk things out.What he wasn't expecting was to meet Alfred's distraught cousin, Matthew, at the supermarket he's fled to...





	1. Leave

**Author's Note:**

> The 'tacky' refers to, I suppose, people's opinions of what Alfred gets up to in this story. 
> 
> (I think I've made him kind of unsympathetic... He's a good kid, really. ^^")
> 
> Learco = Cuba who is away for a year studying in, like, I dunno. Spain, maybe? He's somewhere that's got several hours of a time difference.

It had been a few weeks since Arthur had last seen Herakles, but he was still surprised by how horrible he looked as he stood on the doorstep. There were dark circles under his eyes which were also bloodshot, peering at Arthur from under long, lank hair. His skin was at least one shade paler than usual. Arthur was sure he could see Herakles’s cheekbones.

“Can I speak to him?” Herakles murmured.

Since his heart had already stopped at the sight of him, Arthur was surprised to feel it plummet. He had been somewhat expecting this since the argument at the restaurant. However, it had been so long, Arthur had relaxed a little, despite his worry over Kiku’s health; his partner’s appetite had disappeared and he was suffering just as much as Herakles apparently had. It was inevitable, though, so Arthur stood aside.

“Come on in,” he said, barely above a whisper.

Herakles did as he was told, only pausing to say, “Sorry.”

Once he'd closed the door behind him, Arthur led him into the living room where Kiku was reading through a manga series. He looked up when Arthur entered, opened his mouth to, presumably, ask who it was, and froze when he spotted Herakles. There was a silence, broken only by the slam of a door from down the hall. Barely breathing, Kiku turned to Arthur. “What is he doing here?!” he hissed. For some reason, Kiku sounded panicked.

“He wanted to talk to you,” Arthur explained, though it felt like he was being pricked in the heart with every word. Months ago, Arthur had thought he was numb to this, to the rejection. Now, it seemed, it still hurt.

“Please, Kiku,” Herakles begged. “I don't want to fight but please…”

Kiku’s eyes briefly flickered to Arthur before returning to Herakles. It pained Arthur to notice but, in that moment, the feelings that Kiku were trying to suppress were clear as day. That was when Arthur knew what he had to do. “Would you like a cup of tea?” he offered, trying to keep the sadness from his voice. “I can go make a pot.”

Neither of the other men looked at him. But, eventually, Kiku nodded. “If you don’t mind,” he murmured.

Swallowing, Arthur turned and made his way to the kitchen. He set up the kettle and teapot on automatic, pulling out mugs and setting them on the counter. However, he was unseeing, barely registering what he was doing. Arthur could tell where this was going, that this was their big reconciliation. Both of them would leave and he’d be alone once again. Sighing, he leaned against the counter as the water was heated. He was near the door and so he heard the voices from the living room. Without thinking, he tuned out the familiar sound of the kettle and listened in to the conversation.

“I’m sorry, Kiku,” Herakles was saying. He sounded sincere. “Please believe me this time.”

“Why should I?” Kiku asked, his voice wavering. “After those lies-” He broke off and there was a short silence before he continued. “I know I’ve lied before and that I deserve… this. But I-”

“Kiku,” Herakles said, sounding pained.

That was when, with his heart clenching, Arthur realised that he couldn’t stay in the flat while they did this. Muffling a gasp with one hand and blinking to stop any tears, Arthur hurried from the kitchen. “There’s no milk,” he called to explain himself, forcing his voice to remain steady. “I’m going to get some.” Then he grabbed his keys, pulled on his shoes and rushed from the flat, taking deep breaths once he was out the door in a manner rather like someone who had just been drowning.

* * *

Arthur actually drove all the way to the supermarket. The drive cleared his head, let him sort himself out. Losing Kiku again, though upsetting, wasn’t as painful as it had been the first time; after all, Arthur had lost him a long time ago, had known that deep down. It still hurt, of course, but he’d been resigned to it for a while and he mostly felt regret. If he’d simply said no to Kiku and met up with Alfred again, maybe…

Sighing, Arthur got out of the car and made his way inside. He wasn’t sure what he’d buy as he had plenty of milk and there wasn’t anything else he wanted. Maybe some chocolate - that was supposed to drive despair away, after all. So he wandered in, thinking it would be best to meander up and down the aisles in order to take as much time as possible.

It was as he was walking along the frozen goods aisle that Arthur saw him. A familiar profile with blond hair and glasses. He was looking inside the freezers, a finger rubbing at his eye. There was a slump to his shoulders and he looked dejected.

“Alfred?!” Arthur said from a few feet away.

The man turned and Arthur realised with a sinking heart that it wasn’t who he’d thought it was. His hair was a lighter blond, curlier and longer. Rounder glasses covered a slightly softer face. Instead of the bright blue of Alfred’s eyes, they were darker; they were also a little red, as if he’d been crying. Otherwise, the man looked just like him.

Realisation hit and Arthur’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re… Alfred’s cousin? Right? I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name...”

“Oh, um, Matthew,” said the man, lips twitching upwards in a sad facsimile of  smile. “And you’re… Arthur, right?”

“Yes,” Arthur answered, looking him over. Despite his bright red hoodie, Matthew looked almost dull, as if he wanted to hide from the world. “Are you okay?” he asked, glancing at Matthew’s empty basket.

“Oh, no, I’m fine,” was Matthew’s hasty response. Arthur raised an eyebrow and Matthew turned his head away to look into the freezers again. “Just… looking for some… ice cream.” Matthew sighed then, as if he couldn’t hold it in.

“Are you sure you’re all right? You look…” _… how I feel_. “I suppose you look… rather tired?” Arthur said instead

Matthew gave him another attempt at a smile. “Exam season,” he explained.

“Ah.” Arthur paused. “Are you sure it’s just that?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Arthur was still unconvinced but he couldn’t force Matthew to talk to him. Awkward, he shifted, trying to think of something to say. Of course, his thoughts turned to Alfred and the last time he’d seen him. “How’s Alfred? It’s been a few-” Arthur stopped, surprised to see Matthew looking angry. Blinking, Arthur watched Matthew realising he had reacted visibly and the man looked up.

“I’m sorry. Just… Alfred… It’s…”

“I don’t mind listening,” Arthur offered.

“Oh, I don’t want to bother you. Or hold you up…” Matthew trailed off when he realised that Arthur was without basket, trolley or even anything in his hand. “Um.”

Arthur pursed his lips, thinking. He was curious as to why Matthew didn’t seem happy with the mention of Alfred. But it looked as though Matthew was unwilling to talk to a stranger. There was one way for Matthew to open up to him but it would probably require _Arthur_ opening up to a stranger, laying his heart and regrets bare. Could Arthur do that? Yet… he had done that before. There was a certain symmetry in the cousin listening to his woes with Kiku.

“I’m only here because Kiku is going to leave me again,” Arthur told Matthew.

“What?!” exclaimed Matthew, garnering the attention of a passing middle-aged woman. She frowned at them and only moved on when she noticed Arthur staring at her with a raised eyebrow. “But… He came back to you. Why would he…?”

“Because he loves Herakles. They…” Arthur paused to take a deep breath. “They’re talking in my flat just now. I couldn’t stay there.” He looked around them. “I don’t actually need anything.”

“Are… you okay?” Matthew asked, sounding sad.

“I… It hurts,” Arthur admitted. “But… I wasn’t sure we should be together again, anyway. It doesn’t hurt as much as last time.” Still, he grimaced as he thought about it, wishing that he could have made it work.

“That sounds horrible,” Matthew said. “But… I think- I think mine is worse.”

“How so?”

“I walked in on Alfred with my boyfriend.” Matthew’s eyes shone and his breath shook as he inhaled deeply. “I… I couldn’t- How could they-?”

Arthur stared at Matthew with wide eyes. “What? No. That- Are you sure it was Alfred? He wouldn’t do tha-”

“It was him,” Matthew snapped, though there was little bite to it. “He…”

“That… But… I don’t-”

Matthew looked at him and clearly saw his despair and confusion. “We’ve all been busy with our exams and assignments. I know Alfred’s been stressed because of it. And, with the thing with Mathias and seeing you at that restaurant…” Sighing, Matthew passed his basket between each hand. “I wasn’t there for him. Maybe no-one really was. But… But! I…” Again, Matthew stopped, this time seeming to gather himself. “I hadn’t seen Ivan properly for a while, just in passing. Then one of my exams got rescheduled for a later date and I had a free day. I decided to go see Ivan and… In his bed- In the bed we’d- They were… And the _noises_. I-I couldn’t stay there-” Matthew broke off as a sob escaped him. He pressed a hand to his mouth, tears slowly falling.

“He…?” Arthur could barely believe it. Alfred had never acted so horribly whenever Arthur saw him and he’d been horrified at what Kiku had done the first time he broke up with Arthur. It seemed impossible to even consider Alfred doing something like that. However, the pain and sorrow were clear on Matthew’s face. Besides, once Arthur thought about it more, he thought of the way Alfred had been acting the last time he had seen him, drunk and desperate, trying to pull Arthur into his bed… Would he have done that with anyone? Still, this was his cousin’s boyfriend. How could he do that to his own family? Arthur would never have expected that of him.

_He’s just like Kiku._

The thought came, unbidden. Arthur quickly shook it off. There was a young man still crying in front of him, after all. People were staring at him, whispering. Seeing that, Arthur frowned at them and stepped closer, putting a gentle hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “So you came for ice cream?” he asked, tamping down on his own emotions. It was almost as if he was losing two people he loved today…

Hiccupping a little, Matthew rubbed at his eyes and nodded. “We always eat ice cream when we’re upset,” he explained, gazing sadly through the freezer’s glass.

“I see.” Arthur looked Matthew up and down, growing more concerned. Would he be okay on his own? “Do you have a flatmate, too? Roommate, I mean.” Matthew blinked at him, still wiping away tears. Then he shook his head and Arthur’s lip curled in distaste. “You shouldn’t be alone. Is there a friend you can go to? If you want, I can drive you there.”

Again, Matthew shook his head. “A lot of our friends- I mean, a lot of my friends are Ivan’s friends. Or we both know them. I don’t- I don’t want them to let Ivan in when I’m like this. I don’t want to be- to be taken in again.”

Ignoring the implications of that statement, Arthur frowned. “You don’t have _anyone_?”

“The only person I’d be willing to go to is Learco, and he doesn’t get back till the end of June.”

An idea occurred to Arthur but he almost dismissed it. He wasn’t sure it was a good one. Would it work? Would it help either of them? Before he could second-guess it any further, Arthur took one more look at the distraught Matthew and voiced it. “Would you like to come to my place?” Surprised, Matthew looked up at Arthur, wide-eyed. When he hadn’t said anything for at least a minute, Arthur looked away, staring at the ice cream. “I have spoons,” he offered. “And, um, we can, I don’t know, watch some sort of movie? To distract ourselves.” Arthur paused in thought. “Maybe a kids’ film, so there’s less romance- Though, having said that, I suddenly can’t think of a kids’ film that doesn’t have some sort of romance…”

“I like…” said Matthew suddenly, drawing Arthur’s attention. “I like Monty Python…” Arthur blinked at him and Matthew’s cheeks slowly grew red. It was a cute image and Arthur had to fight down an inappropriate smile. “That-That was kind of… rude. Just because you’re British, I…”

“Monty Python sounds good,” Arthur told him, the smile forming despite himself. “I have them all.”

Looking much happier, Matthew turned back to the ice cream. “Let me just grab some of this.”

“Of course,” said Arthur and proceeded to worry about Matthew’s health when he bought six huge tubs of various Ben & Jerry’s.

* * *

As expected, there was no sign of either Kiku or Herakles. This time, there was less devastation of Arthur’s household appliances and dishes; most of the things in the flat were still his, having bought them after the first time this had happened. In fact, the only thing obviously out of place was the small note sitting at the centre of Arthur’s coffee table.

_Dear, Arthur_  
_I’m sorry. I cannot be with you any longer._  
_I wish I had not hurt you._  
_Kiku_

“At least he left a note,” Arthur said to Matthew with a sigh. In reality, it was a waste of paper and, once he’d scrunched it up, Arthur stuck in the bin as he showed Matthew to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” said Matthew, sadly.

Confused, Arthur looked at him. “What for?”

“You don’t deserve this, me pushing my problems onto you when you’ve got your own.”

Pulling open a drawer, Arthur drew out spoons from its depths. “I wouldn’t quite call it a problem. Not any more. Neither of us was happy.” Arthur gave a brief bark of laughter. “How could we be when I didn’t – _couldn’t_ – trust him? And when he loved someone else?” He turned back to Matthew and handed him one of the spoons. “So don’t feel guilty on top of everything else. I can deal with my stuff later. Right now, we’re cheering you up.

Taking it, Matthew gave Arthur a small smile. “Thank you,” he said, so sincerely that Arthur knew he wasn’t talking about the spoon.

For lack of anything to say, Arthur closed the drawer, put the rest of the ice cream in the freezer and led Matthew back to the living room. He set up the Holy Grail and they settled in. Both of them were silent for a while, eating and watching the film. A tension sat heavy between them: Matthew obviously expected Arthur to say something and Arthur wished he could think of something.

But what could he say to help him? Should he reassure him that Ivan obviously isn’t the one for him? Tell him he’d made a mistake and to give him another chance? To make up with both Ivan and Alfred, give them the benefit of the doubt? How could he when the mere knowledge that Alfred had done something so horrible was causing Arthur pain, too? It felt as if all the hope Arthur had had of a loving relationship had shattered. Where could he possibly find that if he kept attracting awful people?

A breath of laughter from Matthew during the Black Knight scene drew Arthur’s attention. Matthew still had his spoon in his mouth, his lips ringed in white from the cream. His eyes were fixed on the TV and they were brighter than they had been before. Though Matthew looked ridiculous, Arthur couldn’t deny that he already looked as though he was feeling calmer, perhaps more willing to talk.

Once he'd waited a little for the Camelot scene to go by, Arthur spoke without looking at him. "Do you think...? Maybe... Might they have been drunk?" He glanced up to find Matthew frowning at his ice cream. Then Matthew looked up and Arthur glanced down at his own tub before he felt the full brunt of Matthew’s glare. "Maybe Ivan was so far gone he thought it was you - not that I'm saying that makes it okay! But..."

"You think I should give him the benefit of the doubt?" Matthew asked. There was little inflection in his voice and Arthur thought he sounded defeated.

"No! No, no. Just..." Arthur sighed and looked up at Matthew again. "You've been together for a long time, right? So you should find out exactly what happened before you make a decision. And maybe hear Alfred's side as well. Because, well, you're upset because you don't know what you should do, right?"

Matthew frowned at him: Arthur ignored the ice cream still covering his face. "How do you know that?"

"I felt the same with Kiku," Arthur admitted. "When he came back to me, I wasn't sure I should take him back. I spent much of the past month or so wondering if I should tell him I made a mistake. In the end, I wasn't strong enough to do that. But... maybe _you_ can work out what you want better than me."

For a while, the only sounds were the clip-clop of coconuts from the film. "I'm not sure I can bring myself to ask," Matthew murmured, startling Arthur who hadn't been expecting him to speak.

“You don’t _have_ to do it. It was just a suggestion.” Arthur scooped up some more ice cream, watching a dollop drop from the spoon to land with a splat in the tub. “I rather wish I’d spoken to Kiku about where we were in the relationship, both times.”

“Do you think it’ll help?”

“I think…” Arthur paused. “I think that it’s up to you, really. But, whatever you do, you should do what’s best for you. Take care of yourself, Matthew. That’s the most you can do right now.”

Clearly pleased, Matthew nodded, smiling slightly. “Thanks, Arthur. I can see why- Well.”

They fell silent again. Arthur glanced at Matthew to find him deep in thought, frown on his face and his eyes blinking a few times more than necessary. Worried that Matthew would start to cry again, Arthur searched for something for them to talk about, hoping to take his mind off things for a little while longer. “So, I heard you were studying at college?”

Surprised, Matthew took a little while to respond. Arthur let him get his bearings, watching Robin run into the three-headed knight. “French and French Literature,” Matthew told him. “I went to France once as a kid and I was fascinated. Then I ended up in Quebec when I was in middle school and began to pick it up quite well.”

Huh. I have a friend who’s French. I expect you’d have a lot to talk about.” Arthur considered an idea for a moment before nodding. “In fact, I could arrange a meeting between you. Or give him your number.”

“Wha-? Really?!” Matthew exclaimed, setting his ice cream tub aside. “You’d do that?”

“Well, yes,” said Arthur, giving Matthew an amused smile. “I don’t know much about French Literature, after all. And definitely not as much as Francis does.”

“I’ll just get my-” Matthew stopped. “Actually, I’ve turned my phone off so I don’t get texts or calls…” He trailed off but Arthur knew exactly who he was avoiding. “Could you write it down? And, um… would you mind…? Would it be okay… to get your number, too…? I just…”

“Of course,” said Arthur. “Let me get a pen and paper.” He set his ice cream on the coffee table and stood, looking down at Matthew. “Maybe you should, um, wash up?” Arthur suggested, gesturing at Matthew’s face.

Eyes widening, Matthew threw up a hand to wipe at his mouth, staring at the cream which ended up on the back of his hand. Cheeks red, Matthew scrambled to get to his feet. Arthur fought down a smile as he moved across the room to his desk where he kept pen and notepads. Hopefully, this would help Matthew, both with his studies and with someone else to talk to. Arthur touched the wood of his desk with crossed fingers and hoped that there would be a better outcome for Matthew’s relationship than there had been for him.

* * *

It was late by the time Matthew left, later than either of them had expected. Though slow to start, their conversations had continued through the rest of the Monty Python films and a few episodes of the first series of Blackadder. They were mostly on in the background, to keep any silences from getting too deep.

In the end, they hadn’t needed that.

They’d spoken more of Matthew’s course and Arthur had divulged what he’d studied and where he now worked. Matthew had been intrigued about Arthur’s work and he had described to Matthew a typical day. In return, Matthew told Arthur about the people in his classes, those he knew and was on friendly terms with, yet wasn’t close enough to consider them friends. Arthur then told Matthew how he’d met all his current friends and the sorts of things they got up to: Matthew seemed to find Gilbert’s antics hilarious and Arthur thought to add his number to the slip of paper he’d given Matthew.

At some point, upon seeing something on the TV, Matthew had asked about the sports Arthur enjoyed watching or doing. They compared what they’d done at school and how neither of them did it now. Arthur still swam, of course, but he wasn’t part of a club and didn’t do it competitively. As for Matthew, he’d given up his ice hockey for his studies, especially since he’d have been the oldest person at the out-of-school club he’d been a part of. They both reminisced and joked about coming to watch each other. Somehow, that had gotten onto date ideas and Matthew marvelling that Arthur had never actually been ice skating or that he hadn’t been to a theme park since he’d moved to America.

Arthur had completely forgotten about Kiku and Alfred until Matthew glanced at a clock and, surprised, said he should probably go home.

When Arthur showed him to the door, Matthew paused and turned to him. Arthur raised an eyebrow in a silent question. “I’m gonna do it tomorrow,” Matthew told him. “Talk to them, I mean. You’re right. There’s got to be some way to salvage this.”

“Good,” said Arthur, smiling though his heart ached as he thought of Kiku and his own loss. After all, there was no way Alfred was still hung up on him if he was going around doing horrible things like this.

“Do you mind if I call you after?” Matthew asked. “Just… I’d like to talk to someone about whatever happens.”

“Of course!” said Arthur in surprise. “I gave you my number for a reason.”

“Okay, thanks. I better get going. Sleep will probably be a good idea.”

“Goodnight, then, Matthew. Good luck tomorrow.”

The young man waved at him as he made his way down the hallway and out of sight. Arthur quietly shut and locked his front door. Silence pressed on him and he bit his lip in a vain attempt to keep back the tears. They were already sliding down his cheeks as he turned to make his way to his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Kiku won't appear in this series again, I thought I'd let people know about the Herakles thing. 
> 
> In the last story, it is stated that Kiku, at least, thinks that Herakles has been cheating on him with Sadiq. Except that that is not what happened. See, Herakles is an orphan and grew up in a foster home with Sadiq, Cyprus(?) and some other people. Anyways, he sees Sadiq as a sort of brother but is also a little... embarrassed that he doesn't have a family. Not really embarrassed, just doesn't want Kiku to know or something. So he never told Kiku about him and lied to him when he was meeting with Sadiq. But then Kiku saw Herakles with Sadiq when he said he was going to be across town and, well, when he tried to bring it up, Herakles denied it (he didn't realise what Kiku was talking about) and Kiku presumed he was lying. Then they had a massive argument and Kiku walked out. 
> 
> So Kiku's an idiot and Herakles has been suffering for no good reason. 
> 
> I'm so sorry Kiku, I didn't meant to make you into such a horrible person. ^^"


	2. Pull

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: There's a bit discussing maple syrup as it regards to tea but I've never put maple syrup into tea, so... Also, I only ever have one sweetener/sugar so... I can't really compare? So this may be inaccurate.

Kiku had left the clothes he’d put in the laundry basket. Arthur found them the next morning and instantly felt sick to his stomach. Breathing shaky, Arthur phoned Greg and told him what had happened. Brilliant, understanding Greg told him to take two days off. Arthur tried to protest, telling him he only needed one. But Greg was insistent and so Arthur now had two days to mope around his flat. 

In order to take his mind off things, he threw Kiku’s minimal belongings into a bag and went about doing the housework. Washing his own clothes, cleaning the bathroom, tidying the living room. After an hour of busying himself, he thought to text his friends and let them all know the news. Then he went back to his work, ignoring his phone when it beeped to signal a text. Once, it even rang but he ignored it then, too, and heard the chime to let him know he had a voicemail.

An hour later and with more texts received, Arthur was interrupted from trying to find something else to do by a knock at the door. Startled, Arthur jolted as he turned to look in its direction, wondering who it could be. After all, his friends wouldn’t bother him when it was clear he wanted to be alone. He had no packages to be delivered and the landlord had come by only a few days before so he wouldn’t appear for another fortnight. Curious, he strode over and opened it.

“Matthew?” he said in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting Matthew to turn up unannounced. In fact, Arthur had figured he’d have most of the day to himself before Matthew called him.

“I-I’m sorry to bother you…” Matthew murmured. He looked up at Arthur from where he was hunched in on himself. “Did-Did you not get my texts?”

“I’ve, um, been cleaning,” Arthur explained. “I didn’t hear my phone…” Pausing, he looked Matthew up and down. Again, he was wearing a baggy hoodie, this one purple with a hockey logo on it. His hair was more of a mess, as if he’d been running his hand through it. And, once again, his eyes were red rimmed, dark circles under his them. “Are you-? Actually, come on in.” Arthur stood aside, holding the door open for Matthew. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Yes, please.” Matthew stepped carefully into Arthur’s flat, slipping his shoes off before he made his way further in.

“What do you take in it?” asked Arthur as he followed Matthew to the living room.

“Um. Maple syrup?”

Arthur blinked. “‘Maple syrup’?”

“Yeah, uh, I like it sweet,” said Matthew with a small, strained smile. “But putting lots of sugar in it makes it taste  _ too _ sweet somehow, so…”

“I think I have some,” Arthur said, looking up at his ceiling in thought. “I’ve not used it much so I’m not sure how good it’ll be.”

“I don’t mind having it without maple syrup,” Matthew told him. “I’m imposing on you enough; you don’t need to go out of your way for me.”

“Well, just wait a moment. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Despite Matthew’s protests, Arthur looked for the maple syrup as soon as he got into the kitchen. Luckily, he still had half of a small bottle left and, though the sticky substance had crusted around the lid, he found that the syrup within was fine. It moved when he tilted the bottle, at least. With that sorted, he made the tea with quick, deft, practiced movements. About five minutes later, Arthur had dropped a dollop of maple syrup into a mug filled with tea and carried it to Matthew. 

“Thank you,” Matthew murmured, looking up from where he was curled on Arthur’s couch.

“You’re quite welcome,” Arthur replied, settling into his armchair with his own mug of tea. “Is it okay for you?”

Once he’d blown on it a couple of times, Matthew sipped at his tea. His eyes seemed to brighten for a moment and his mouth twitched into a brief smile. “It’s good. Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” said Arthur, feeling as if he was repeating himself. He had visions of them stuck in a loop, politely exchanging thanks over and over. “Do you feel better?” he asked, hoping that he wasn’t about to upset Matthew.

“A little,” was the reply. Matthew stared down at his tea for a moment. Then he looked up and caught Arthur’s gaze; Arthur felt he couldn’t look away. “I talked to Ivan and Alfred this morning, since none of us had exams.”

“Oh, you’ve already done it?” Arthur paused, his interest ebbing as he spotted how Matthew looked so down. “What… What happened?” he dared to ask.

Matthew responded after a long moment. “They apologised. Said that it had been a mistake, that it wouldn’t happen again. Neither of them would look at each other. I was just starting to believe them when I… I shouldn’t have… If I hadn’t…”

“What did you do?” asked Arthur, gripping his mug tightly as he tried not to grow concerned.

“I asked if it really had only been once.” Matthew stopped to take a few deep breaths. His hand was shaking so badly that he leaned forward and put down the mug. “Alfred said that it had. But Ivan didn’t say anything and, when I looked at him, he said he didn’t want to lie to me.”

“‘Lie’?”

“Apparently, they’ve been at it a while,” Matthew told him, the anger clear in his eyes. “Ever since that day in the restaurant. Or the day after, anyway.”

Arthur’s heart stopped. “Why would they…?”

“Ivan found Alfred at his flat while his roommates were out,” said Matthew, his voice flat. “He’d gone over to borrow notes for a class they’re in. Alfred was upset, extremely so. Ivan comforted him and ‘one thing led to another’.” The scorn in Matthew’s voice, the despair in his eyes, was almost too much for Arthur to bear.

“Oh, Matthew,” he breathed, not knowing what else he could say. This was his fault, he realised. He had told Matthew to ask them about it. He hadn’t bothered to check up on Alfred the next morning. He had left him there, clearly in distress. He had left that club without a full name or number. 

The guilt must have shown on his face as Matthew gave him a kind smile. “Don't blame yourself for this,” he said. “You're not the one at fault here.”

“If I hadn't met Alfred…” Arthur stared down at his tea, swirling the dark liquid within. “If I’d only refused to go there…”

“It’s not your fault,” Matthew said, firmly. “You couldn't know all this would happen. So don't you dare blame yourself. It’s Alfred who’s caused all this.”

“I…” Arthur had the strange urge to defend Alfred. It made him uncomfortable; he barely knew Alfred, after all. Yet, he couldn’t help thinking that Ivan had taken advantage of a vulnerable and distraught young man who had been desperate for love and comfort. Arthur shook his head. The blame didn't matter right now. What mattered was that Matthew was trembling, biting at his lip. “Are you okay?” he asked, rather unnecessarily. 

Shaking his head, Matthew looked back up at Arthur, tears in his eyes. “Ivan came home that night,” Matthew said, barely audible. “Came to me. I- We-” Matthew looked like he was struggling so Arthur nodded his understanding. After all, it was obvious they’d had sex that day. “And, after, I told him that I love him and- and- he still-” The tears fell as Matthew sobbed.

For a moment, Arthur hesitated, his heart clenching with pain. He had not been expecting that, hadn't thought that Alfred could have ruined someone's love like that. Yet, at the same time, he was furious that Ivan could do something like that to poor Matthew. Pushing that aside, he forced himself to focus: what was he supposed to do with a crying man who was essentially a stranger? Would it be awkward if he tried to comfort him?

Taking a breath, Arthur stood and crossed to Matthew’s side. Sitting beside him, Arthur pulled Matthew by the arm until he was resting sideways against Arthur's chest. Then he wrapped his arms around Matthew’s shoulders (which were broader than he had initially thought, he noticed) and hugged him tight. He let one of his hands rub at Matthew’s far arm, also noting that his biceps were probably as big as Alfred’s. Arthur had to resist shaking his head to dismiss thoughts of Alfred and silly comparisons. 

Not knowing what to say, Arthur opened his mouth and hoped something would come out. “Did he say it back?” he found himself saying and he cursed himself.

“Y-Yes!” Matthew wailed, his whole body shaking against Arthur. “Why would he-?”

“I don't know,” said Arthur, softly. “But if he said that and he still carried on…” 

“He didn't mean it?” Matthew suggested, voice strained as he fought against the tears.

“I was going to say that he's an idiot, but that works, too.” Arthur tightened his grip on Matthew. “You don’t deserve this. I’m sorry.”

Matthew cried even harder, unable to reply. Arthur let him, hoping his hug was enough to help him through it. All he could think of was that Ivan clearly didn't deserve Matthew. As for Alfred… Arthur’s frown deepened as he realised he had the urge to punch him in his gorgeous face.

Eventually, Matthew’s shuddering sobs died down. He took deep breaths, steadying himself. Arthur waited, not wanting to leave him if he still felt upset. It wasn't until Arthur felt a tug on his sleeve that he realised how awkward the position was. Looking down, he realised that Matthew, with no way to hug him back, was clutching at his arm. 

“Feeling better?” Arthur asked before cursing his choice of words. “I mean-”

“I’m fine. I guess,” said Matthew, pushing away from Arthur a little. Arthur let him go, slowly dropping his arms. Expecting Matthew to move to the other side of the couch, Arthur was surprised to see him stay close. “I should probably stop thinking about it, right?”

“Only if you want to…” said Arthur, rather hesitantly. Looking at Matthew now, it seemed to Arthur that something within the young man had shifted. For example, he was smiling at Arthur, a lot more warmly than he had ever done before - it sent a heat coursing through Arthur, reaching his cheeks as he looked away.

“Mm, well, I do have exams to study for…” Matthew’s smile quickly became a dissatisfied expression. “I should probably go home and do that…”

“Right now?” asked Arthur, worried for him.

“I have an exam in a couple of days. And there are a couple of assignments due in soon…” Matthew explained, not sounding overly enthusiastic. “One of them is an oral presentation.”

“Will you be okay on your own?”

Matthew hesitated. They looked at each other; Arthur realised that the answer was ‘no’. Grimacing, Matthew looked away, staring down at the table. “I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate,” Matthew admitted. “And I don’t know how I’ll stop my thoughts from…”

“You could study here,” Arthur said, without thinking. He stilled once he’d done it, surprised. Matthew also seemed shocked, slowly raising his gaze to blink at Arthur; he looked rather like the stereotypical cartoon owl. “I-I mean… I can check on you every so often, to make sure you’re still making progress. Or just help you in general? And, if you’re here, no-one will be able to find you. Not to mention… if I can figure out when Francis is free, I’d bet he’d help. If you’d like-”

“Yes!” Matthew exclaimed. “That would be-  _ Thank you _ !” Matthew looked relieved, a happy smile spreading across his face. His eyes were still red from crying and there were visible tear tracks but he still looked happier than Arthur had ever seen him.

“Well,” said Arthur, embarrassed. He turned his head away and caught sight of their mugs. “Let’s drink our tea first.”

* * *

 

When Arthur had seen Herakles and known Kiku would be leaving him, he had assumed that he’d be on his own in the ensuing days. Instead, he had Matthew around every night after work, tirelessly working on his studying and his assignments, working himself to the bone. On the days he had off, Matthew was there practically from dawn till dusk. Again, he worked the entire time he was there, though he was more easily convinced to take breaks. And, throughout it all, he never ignored Arthur when he asked a passing question, always responding and having full conversations before returning to his work. Then again, Arthur was usually asking a question about it so that probably helped him, anyway.

A couple of times, Arthur had to take his books and laptop away from Matthew and sit him in front of the TV with a film on. He made sure it was in French and Matthew gave him his sweet, grateful smiles. Arthur always hurried away to make tea or hot chocolate - or was it cocoa? - when that happened, ducking his head despite Matthew not being able to see him. Once, Arthur even got him to play the board games he had lying around the flat, though it was quickly apparent that playing Monopoly was a bad idea, especially since Arthur was affronted at the abundance of American flags adorning it. Matthew had laughed when he complained and had only laughed harder when Arthur began asking him for the proper, English street names for each corresponding square in protest.

So Arthur wasn’t surprised when Matthew turned up at his flat on another day off, though he  _ was _ surprised at the ice skates he had slung over his shoulder, hanging by a single finger. He looked confident and happy and Arthur had to press his lips together to keep from gasping. Where had the miserable, downtrodden man disappeared to? How had he recovered from the heartbreak so quickly? Arthur was still struggling to get over two people in the moments he was alone.

“Matt?” he said, tilting his head slightly. “What…?”

“I’ve finished one of my assignments,” Matthew explained, grinning at Arthur. “And I’ve got most of another one done. It’s just the oral presentation and the other exam but they’re at the end of the month. So, uh, I thought I could do something for you in return for…” Matthew shook his head, almost in disbelief. “Everything.”

“I- What? I didn’t do anything,” Arthur protested. 

“You’ve helped me out a lot, Arthur,” said Matthew, rolling his eyes. “And we’re gonna see Francis in a few days which’ll be even more of a help.”

“Ah, speaking of which,” Arthur said, intentionally ignoring the claim that he was helping Matthew. He hoped he wasn’t blushing. “I asked Francis if you’d been messaging each other yet and he said ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ with a winking face. So, how’s that been going?”

“Really well.” Matthew’s grin widened. “It’s been fun, texting him. Though, I do sometimes forget my phone’s set to English and forget some of the punctuation which, ha, leads to some confusion.”

“I’m glad. I was a little worried when I gave you his number and explained things to him.” Arthur paused, remembering the conversation that had happened over the phone. “After he’d yelled at me for not responding to him…”

“Yeah, he seemed pretty upset that he wasn’t the first to know.”

“And with good reason!” Arthur huffed - and suddenly remembered that they were still standing at the door and that Matthew had brought ice skates. “Anyway, what’s with the ice skates?”

“I’m taking a break from studying,” Matthew explained. “And, when I thought about… everything… too much, I realised that I really wanted to skate for a while. But, I thought, well… if you want to, we could both go? I know you can’t skate but I’ll teach you. And I won’t let you fall.”

“Um, I- Really?” said Arthur, flustered and surprised.

Matthew laughed airily. “Really!”

“I don’t know…” Arthur wasn’t sure it was a good idea. His balance probably left something to be desired but he'd always wanted to try it. Usually, he imagined himself doing something like this as a date. Maybe he could do it with a friend instead? “I don’t have skates.”

“The rink we'll be going to hires out skates, don't worry about that. I promise it'll be fun!” 

With Matthew’s earnest, eager gaze locked on his face, Arthur felt his resistance crumbling. “I… Okay. Let me just get myself sorted out.” He stepped aside to let Matthew in and the younger man grinned at him, the excitement clear. 

Arthur could only hope he didn't embarrass himself too much.

* * *

 

It took everything Arthur had to stay upright, trying not to cling to the side as Matthew had asked. He'd been doing that for the last fifteen minutes and Matthew said he should at least try it without the support. Which was easy for him to say; Matthew had been skating peacefully around the rink multiple times while Arthur felt his feet slip out from under him every few seconds.

“I can't move,” he finally said once he’d stopped wobbling so much.

Stifling giggles, Matthew pushed himself forward till he was standing right in front of Arthur. Another inch or so forward and people would be getting the wrong idea. Then again, the people who were skating around them had already been giving them sly looks, as if they knew what they were doing more than them. Arthur was jolted from his thoughts as Matthew reached forward and grabbed hold of his wrists.

“That’s okay,” he was saying once Arthur had gotten over his surprise. “You concentrate on keeping your balance and I’ll pull you forward. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Arthur breathed, worried.

“Here we go,” said Matthew, smiling. And, with only that as a warning, he began to skate  _ backwards _ .

Arthur's heart leapt into his throat as his friend pulled him effortlessly along. Matthew was graceful as he skated, completely at ease. Watching him go by, Arthur had been mesmerised, so much so that he'd slipped and spent several minutes clinging to the barrier whilst he tried to get his feet back under him. This, however, had his heart pounding as he tensed, trying not to move too much.

“Relax,” Matthew said with a quiet laugh. “I won't let you fall.”

His promise reassured Arthur somewhat. The way he said it made him seem determined to keep Arthur safe, keep him from harm. Putting his trust in him - something he didn't think he would do so soon or so easily - Arthur felt himself calming down somewhat. Less tense, he could only watch Matthew as he pulled him along, his muscles tensing and relaxing under the tight t-shirt he was wearing.

“Why are you wearing that, anyway?” Arthur asked, glancing down at the faded logo of what he presumed was an ice hockey team.

Smiling, Matthew shrugged a shoulder. “I thought it was appropriate. It’s been a while since I’ve worn it, though - I forgot it was a little small.”

“Huh,” said Arthur, eyeing it.

“Does it look stupid?” Matthew asked, sounding concerned. 

“No, no!” Arthur hastily replied. “It, um… looks good?”

“You don’t sound so convinced,” Matthew said, clearly amused. 

“It's  _ fine _ .”

“Okay.” Matthew glanced over his shoulder then and Arthur managed to wrench his gaze away from him to look as well. They seemed to be approaching the other end of the rink and Arthur wondered how they would turn like this. “Right,” Matthew said. “I’m going to let go of one hand, okay? Don't panic, you're doing great.”

“ _ What _ ?!” exclaimed Arthur, already panicking. 

“You’re gonna skate to the wall on your own,” Matthew told him and promptly let go of Arthur's right hand before he could grab hold of him.

Arthur gasped, twisting his other hand so he could tightly grip Matthew’s wrist. “W-What do I do?” Arthur demanded, already fighting to keep his balance.

“Look, watch my feet.” Arthur dared to look down and saw Matthew sweeping a foot under him and pushing off, gliding forward and pulling Arthur with him. “Just do that. Go on, try it just now.”

Arthur did as he was told and his feet slipped every which way. Crying out, he grabbed hold of Matthew’s arm with his free hand, his other tightening his grip in his fright. They stopped then, Arthur almost bent double as he panted, gaze stuck on the slippy surface beneath his feet.

“Try again,” Matthew suggested once Arthur had found it in himself to straighten. “We'll keep trying till you get the hang of it, okay?”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea…” Arthur grumbled, but he did as he was told.

In the end, it took him four tries in order to be able to move the way Matthew wanted him to. Once he did, Matthew quietly cheered and manoeuvred him around the corner. “This time, I’m gonna let go completely-”

“What?!” exclaimed Arthur, instinctively reaching out for the wall.

Catching his hand, Matthew pulled it away. “It’ll be all right, Arthur,” said Matthew, kindly. “I’ll be nearby; I won't let you fall.”

Not sure whether he should be convinced or not, Arthur slowly nodded. They started off as they had before, thankfully, but it wasn't long before Matthew had pried his arm from Arthur’s grip. Nervous, Arthur did as he had before. A few silent moments passed before Arthur realised that he was doing it, that he was skating away from Matthew. Laughing, he glanced at Matthew who grinned back, looking delighted. Arthur returned his attention to his skating and sped up.

That was a mistake for, no sooner had he done so, than he realised that he was coming up to the wall, fast - and he didn't know how to stop. “Ma-Matthew!” he cried, voice wobbling. “How do I stop?!”

“Oh, um, just turn your feet a little to the side…” Matthew sounded unsure and Arthur did not feel confident that it would work.

He tried anyway but, he must have done something wrong, because he only spun himself around till he was gliding backwards towards the wall. Shocked, his wide eyes met Matthew’s as the younger man skated towards him, reaching out. However, Arthur’s momentum kept Matthew out of reach and he slammed into the side of the rink where he immediately caught hold of it in a tight grip. His feet began to slip from under him as he struggled with his awkward grip and he would have fallen over the wall completely if Matthew hadn’t skated right up against him, pinning him to the wall behind him. Matthew put his hands either side of Arthur; to steady himself, Arthur put his hands on Matthew’s arms.

“Are you okay?!” asked Matthew, sounding panicked. He looked it, too, his eyes as wide as Arthur’s had been, eyebrows raised, mouth turned down in a frown.

“I… I’m okay,” said Arthur, taking a shaky breath. His hands were trembling, too, and he curled his fingers, clinging to the unzipped hoodie Matthew wore over his shirt. “But, um, I think I’d like to stop now.”

“I am so sorry!” Matthew said, moving closer, his arms shifting towards Arthur till he could feel him brushing against his hips. It made their position register fully on Arthur and he felt his cheeks warm. Matthew’s turned red a few seconds later, presumably when he realised how close they actually were. “I, um,” he said, and began to pull away.

Almost immediately, Arthur felt himself slipping; Matthew’s foot had been keeping Arthur’s from going out from under him. Quickly, Matthew caught him, pinning him against the wall again. They froze like that, Arthur taking heavy breaths. “Could we… stay here for just a moment?”

“Sorry,” Matthew repeated. “I should have showed you how to stop first…”

“It’s fine,” Arthur told him, willing his heart to slow. “But I think I’d like a cup of tea.”

Nodding, Matthew carefully shifted until he was far enough away from Arthur that he could hold out his arm. “We can go now, if you’d like?”

Arthur gratefully latched onto him as if he was a lady in a period drama, nodding his reply. They skated towards the entrance, Arthur trying to propel himself along to help Matthew. People skated by them, either going in the same direction or coming towards them. All of them deftly managed to avoid the wobbly pair. Arthur trusted Matthew not to let him fall in the short journey so he let himself glance around at everyone else. There were families clutching at children’s hands or encouraging youngsters to twirl. Others seemed to be on their own, earphones in as they went around and around. Most of the people there, however, seemed to be on dates, holding onto each other much like Arthur was doing with Matthew, though they all seemed to be able to actually skate. It made him wonder if Matthew had been there before, if he’d come here with Ivan. Had Alfred come here, too, with Mathias? 

Thinking of that prompted Arthur to ask something he’d been wondering for a couple of days. “Have you seen… either of  _ them _ since…  _ then _ ?”

Matthew tensed but, after a moment of pursing his lips, Matthew glanced at Arthur and gave him an unreadable look. “I’ve not seen Ivan. But… Alfred’s tried to talk to me on campus a couple of times.”

“And how did that go?”

“We… may have had a full-blown argument,” Matthew admitted with a sheepish grimace.

“Ah. But you said you probably won’t see them much after you’ve finished your exams, right?”

“Ivan was going to be coming and going during the summer. I’m not sure what Alfred was planning. And I was thinking of going home, anyway. Depends on jobs and stuff.”

“Good,” said Arthur as they reached the edge of the rink. Matthew stopped them both and helped Arthur onto a surface which wouldn’t send him flying when he let go. After making sure he could balance, Arthur hobbled to the bench to remove the skates. “Where have you applied to?”

“Some coffee shops, a bar…” Matthew trailed off and went so quiet that Arthur looked up to find him looking back apologetically. “I just remembered…”

“What?”

“That fight… I told Alfred about us.”

“‘Us’?” Arthur blinked. What did that mean? 

“That we’ve been hanging out. I hope you don’t mind…” 

As Matthew looked truly contrite, Arthur smiled at him. “Don’t worry about it, honestly. He’s had months to come to my work and he hasn’t yet. And, apart from that, there’s no way for him to find me. You have no need to worry.”

The smile Matthew gave him was almost blinding. “Great. There’s a café near here that I applied to a few days ago - let’s go see what it’s like!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The, uh, ice skating snuck in there. This whole chapter was a surprise to be honest... ^^"


	3. Feel

Matthew had just left from another of his visits when there was a knock at the door. Arthur frowned. Who could that be? He had already given Kiku back his stuff - well, he'd left it at Herakles’s door with a note saying he forgave Kiku. And he’d made sure to add that he'd rather Kiku didn't come to him if they had an argument or broke up again. Hopefully Kiku would respect Arthur’s wishes.

Apart from him, Arthur’s friends wouldn’t be coming to see him this late at night. All of them had work or other commitments in the morning. It was also the middle of the week which meant that Gilbert definitely wouldn't be using his “It’s almost Friday!” excuse to drag Arthur off to the pub. It might be his landlord, though he never actually appeared this late. At least, not since Arthur had been there.

So, curious and a little wary, Arthur went to the front door and opened it. He was not prepared for what waited for him on the other side. For a split second, he couldn’t move or speak. Then the shock cleared and his eyes widened.

“Alfred?!” he exclaimed. “What-?! How-?!”

The man himself was a dishevelled mess: Arthur couldn’t help but think of Matthew’s grief. Both men had looked the same. There were the same reddened eyes and the bags under the eyes. Alfred’s hair was dishevelled and his clothes (a plain black t-shirt and baggy cargo pants) were in disarray. But, instead of looking grief-stricken like his cousin, Alfred was glowering at Arthur.

“Let me in,” Alfred snapped.

“What-? No,” said Arthur, quickly pulling himself together. “How did you find me?”

“I followed Mattie. Let me in,” said Alfred, shortly. His tone worried Arthur.

“No,” Arthur told him, tightening his grip on the door. “This is bordering on _stalking_ , Alfred. Go home.” Arthur began to close the door.

It made it halfway before Alfred’s palm slammed into it, halting its closure. Arthur put all his weight against the door but Alfred’s strength was greater than Arthur’s resistance. That strength reminded Arthur of the time in the club when Alfred had picked him up and- The memory made him falter and Alfred was able to push the door fully open. Arthur stumbled back with it and Alfred took the opportunity to step inside, passing Arthur by as he strode into his flat.

“Hey!” Arthur exclaimed, swinging his front door shut. He hurried after Alfred and followed him into his own living room. “You can’t just _barge_ in here-!”

Alfred turned on him, the anger in him palpable. “You’ve been hanging out with Matthew,” he said, tone accusatory.

Frowning, Arthur said, “So? He’s my friend.”

“And he’s _my_ cousin!”

“Well, act like it!” Arthur snapped. That made Alfred flinch. “Yes, he told me all about what you and Ivan did. How could you?! What in the world possessed you?!”

“I- I just…” Alfred couldn't keep looking at him, his eyes darting down to the floor. Then his expression hardened and he glared up at Arthur. “I’m just doing what you’re doing with Matthew.”

“What are you talking about?” Arthur demanded.

“You’re using him to comfort you after your break-up, right?”

Arthur’s lip curled. “Firstly, that is no excuse to hurt Matthew,” he hissed, stepping forward to jab Alfred’s chest. “Secondly, I am doing no such thing.”

“ _Sure_ you’re not,” Alfred said, scoffing. “You’ve only been with him every day this week.”

“What, am I not allowed to have _friends_ now?” Arthur snapped. He turned from Alfred, arms folded, and paced away, down the length of his couch. “Because that's what we are. Friends. Why would you think I would jump at the first person I saw?” He threw a glare over his shoulder and found Alfred grimacing.

“That’s not what I- Matthew said-”

“‘Matthew said’? You're lucky he even spoke to you!”

“I know, okay?!” Alfred exclaimed. The wobbling of his voice made Arthur turn slightly, just enough to look at him out the corner of his eye. Alfred looked tired, even at this distance. When he caught Arthur’s eye, he said, “I know.” It was far quieter than usual.

“Why would you even _do_ something like that?” Arthur demanded, willing his heart to stop aching for Alfred.

Alfred seemed to see that Arthur was wavering. He took two quick steps towards Arthur, leaning forward. “I was… upset. It was a mistake, I swear-”

Whirling around to face Alfred fully, Arthur took an angry step forward. “ _Once_ is a mistake! More than that is something else entirely!”

“No, no, you don't understand! I-I didn't want to be with _him_. He was just… there.” Alfred paused and began to frown, brow furrowing deeply. “Unlike you,” he muttered, just loud enough for Arthur to hear him.

“Are you blaming _me_ for the fact that you fucked your cousin’s boyfriend?” Arthur snapped. He had the vindictive pleasure of seeing Alfred flinch at his words. “Or did you let him fuck you?" Again, Alfred flinched. "Actually, you were at it more than once - did you switch?” Another flinch.

“Don’t-” Alfred was grimacing. “This isn’t you, Art-”

“How would you know what I’m like? You don’t _know_ me, Alfred. And I _clearly_ don’t know you.”

“No, listen, please,” Alfred pleaded, stepping closer. “I was a mess. Ivan comforted me and, I dunno, the next thing I knew, I was kissing him. I was still thinking about you-”

“Oh, well, _that_ makes it all the better!” Arthur snapped, unconsciously moving closer to Alfred: he supposed he wanted to be closer so Alfred could better feel his anger.

“Ah, no, not like that. I mean-”

“You were angry and upset and you decided to wreck someone else’s relationship, didn’t you? I thought about it, you see,” Arthur added when Alfred looked surprised. “I couldn’t believe that you were at fault. But then I remembered the last time I saw you and how much of a mess you left Mathias’s home in. You’re despicable.”

Alfred took another step towards him; vaguely, Arthur was aware that they were only a foot or so away from each other. “No! No, look, I kissed him and then I apologised but _he_ was the one who kissed me the second time. And then… I just… needed someone.”

“Enough to ruin Matthew’s relationship? Not that this Ivan bloke deserves him, not after this.” Arthur paused and smirked. “Perhaps the two of you deserve each other.”

Somehow, that made Alfred snap. He took another large step and grabbed hold of Arthur’s arms. “Why didn’t you leave your number? Anything, something! You didn’t even leave a note!” Alfred’s volume steadily rose and Arthur winced, trying to pull out of his grip. “I had to go by a fucking _description_ of you by my roommates! It was like you didn’t want to know me and, after Mat-!”

Finally, Arthur wrenched himself from Alfred’s grasp. Instead of putting distance between them, Arthur stayed where he was and shoved Alfred. He only stumbled back half a step. “You needed time! I’m not going to be your rebound!”

“What, like how I was for you?” Alfred snarled.

Arthur flinched, his eyes wide. “That wasn’t…” he whispered.

“Wasn’t it?” Alfred snapped. “You were upset and I comforted you and then I fucked you. In what way is that different from a rebound?”

“I wasn’t going around to my ex’s to smash up their stuff!” Arthur cried. “You obviously weren’t dealing with your break-up well and-”

“I saw you!” Alfred yelled. He stopped, breathing heavily for a moment before he continued, Arthur too shocked to interrupt. “I saw you that day,” he said, at a normal speaking volume. “ _That’s_ why I was upset.”

Staring at him, Arthur tried to dredge up something to say. Finally, he managed, “I… You-You were- Why? I don’t…”

“Of course I was upset! I-I wanted to come into your shop and beg for a date!” Alfred ducked his head then, biting his lip. “But you were with that Kiku guy…”

“Oh,” said Arthur, at a loss for what to say.

“But then you took me home and you didn't stick around or leave a note and I really thought..." Alfred gave Arthur a pained look. "I thought I'd lost you."

"So you decided Ivan was an acceptable substitute?"

"That's- No. No-one could ever replace you," said Alfred, firmly.

"Not even Mathias?" Arthur raised an eyebrow as Alfred looked away with a grimace.

"I tried. But I couldn't stop thinking about you."

They paused then, staring at each other. Arthur could feel his anger draining away, his heartache returning in full force. He _yearned_ for Alfred, even more now that he was in front of him. But he forced himself to resist. Alfred's actions were definitely nothing to be commended and he turned over the conversation in his mind. Slowly, his anger returned and Arthur frowned at Alfred.

"So, what you're saying is, you wanted to date me and, instead of breaking up with Mathias yourself and coming to find me, you waited too long, got upset, trashed your ex's place and then betrayed your cousin with his boyfriend. Is that why you're here? To blame me?!"

"No! No, that wasn't. I didn't come here for that!" Alfred exclaimed, reaching out for Arthur. He slapped Alfred's hand away.

"Then what _did_ you come here for?"

"I just wanted- I wanted to see you."

"Really? Because you came in here and _yelled_ at me instead."

"I didn't mean to-!"

"There's a lot of things you 'didn't mean' to do - like fuck Ivan."

"Why are you being like this?!" Alfred cried, looking dismayed. "You're being mean."

"Well, answer me this: after Matthew stopped speaking to both of you, did you and Ivan go find comfort in each other's arms?" Alfred stilled at the question and Arthur leaned forward, getting into his space as much as possible. "When was the last time you and Ivan undressed each other and got into bed and stuck your cocks-?"

"Last night, okay!" Alfred yelled, face red. He was leaning back a little, his pained look morphing into one of anger. "Why do you keep being like that?! I thought you were better than this!"

"And I never thought you'd make a cheater out of someone else but look where we are. And," Arthur added, "now I know why you're here."

"What are you talking about _now_?"

"You're jealous," Arthur told him, jabbing his finger into Alfred's chest. "You wanted a relationship of some sort, so you risked hurting your cousin to take Ivan from him."

"It wasn't like tha-" Alfred began.

"Then, when you found out about Matthew befriending me, you realised that you could still have me, if I was willing. So, now you're here, wanting to convince me that it 'wasn't your fault' that you and Ivan had sex." Arthur jabbed Alfred again. "Multiple times." A jab for each word. "Behind Matthew's back." Alfred was given a particularly hard poke on the last word, vicious and intending to hurt.

It made Alfred react. He grabbed hold of Arthur's wrist, pulling it away from where his finger still pointed accusingly at him. "Don't you-"

"Am I right?" Arthur demanded, jerking at his arm. Alfred's grip tightened and Arthur flexed his fingers to test it. There didn't seem a way of pulling away from Alfred unless Arthur pried it off, finger by finger.

"That- What about you?" Alfred waved Arthur's arm around, inadvertently pulling him closer.

"What are you talking about?"

"You followed Kiku over here and, when he broke up with you, you'd barely breathed before you were fucking me in a toilet. And then you avoided me because you 'weren't ready'. Liar!"

Arthur grabbed the front of Alfred's shirt, pulling him even closer, glaring into those pretty blue eyes. "I didn't want to go looking for someone I barely knew, someone who could be a cheater, just like Kiku!" He jerked the arm that was in Alfred's grip. "And, look, I was right to do that. It saved me from even more pain." His eyes flicked away slightly at that lie.

Having been staring into Arthur's eyes, Alfred obviously noticed. "You like me enough that it hurt to find out about it, didn't it?"

"Does it matter?"

"It matters!"

"Fine. Yes! What more do you want from me?!"

"I'm sorry!" Alfred exclaimed. "I'm sorry for hurting you, okay? But do you really like me?"

“I-” Arthur stopped, unable to stop staring at Alfred. They were close enough that he could feel Alfred panting, Alfred’s breath brushing against Arthur’s parted lips. Their chests brushed as they both breathed heavily, the shouting and explanations having taken a lot from them. Realising their position made the words stick in Arthur’s throat, his thoughts flying away as Alfred’s beautiful eyes seemed to get closer.

Before he knew it, their lips had connected. It was a chaste, quick peck that they slowly moved back from, one to test the waters. When neither of them pulled away completely, Arthur’s grip tightened in Alfred’s t-shirt and Alfred threw Arthur’s other arm over his shoulder so he could wrap his arms around Arthur’s waist. At the same time, they kissed again, this one longer, each of them insistently pressing against the other. Alfred was the one to get their tongues involved, sweeping his along Arthur’s lips till he let them fall open again in a sigh. Taking the opportunity, Alfred deepened the kiss, their tongues twining, teeth clacking, nipping.

It was almost desperate and Arthur’s heart was already pounding.

Feeling lightheaded, Arthur stumbled after Alfred as he shifted Arthur around. He ended up with the small of his back resting against the back of his couch. That allowed Alfred to move closer, lifting one of his hands to cup the back of Arthur’s head. A burning heat swept through Arthur and the desire for _more_ surfaced. He tugged at Alfred’s shirt, wanting him closer, wanting it off. Alfred did the former, his free arm wrapped around Arthur’s back, his fingers digging into Arthur’s bicep. They stayed like that for some time, the kiss still sloppy with desperation; Arthur revelled in the feeling of being surrounded in a peace he rarely felt.

Eventually, Alfred shifted, his mouth kissing at Arthur’s face, softly marking a way down to Arthur’s jaw. There, he kissed along it, nibbling at Arthur. Content, Arthur let his head fall back to reveal more skin for Alfred to touch. His chest was heaving and his thoughts didn’t seem to be forming further than the knowledge that he desired Alfred.

Again, Alfred shifted, this time slotting a leg between Arthur’s. As he kissed at Arthur’s neck, he bent his knee and lifted it until it was just brushing against Arthur’s crotch. Arthur gasped, suddenly aware of how hard he was. He could feel Alfred’s grin against his neck as he pushed his knee further upwards, pressing firmly against Arthur’s cock. Unable to stop himself, Arthur thrust against him, crying out.

“God, I’ve missed this,” Alfred murmured before he bit into Arthur’s neck. The shock made Arthur cry out again, gasping as he clutched at Alfred. His fingers curled even tighter in the front of Alfred’s shirt and he had the distant thought that it would be ruined now. Everything quickly flew out of his head, though, as Alfred finished sucking a mark high on his neck and made more effort to rub against Arthur.

“Ah! Y-Yes,” Arthur breathed, agreeing with the statement. Or maybe he was begging for more.

Instead, Alfred lowered his leg and Arthur bit his lip to stop a whimper from escaping him. His grip loosened, intent on pulling Alfred’s leg back to him. But, before he could, Alfred’s arm shifted and he leaned up simultaneously. Just as Alfred began to desperately kiss him, he reached down to grab at Arthur’s dick through the trousers he was wearing. Moaning into Alfred’s mouth, Arthur arched up into him, enjoying the sensations.

At some point, after rubbing and stroking at Arthur, making him grow harder, Alfred stopped the kiss to speak. Arthur delighted in the fact that Alfred’s lips brushed his with every word: it was as if Alfred was kissing him with every one. “Let’s take this to an actual bed. Where’s your bedroom?”

Still a little lightheaded, Arthur turned his head to look towards the back of the flat. It meant that Alfred’s mouth was against his ear. Alfred took full advantage almost immediately. Arthur had barely taken a breath to speak when he lost it; Alfred had closed his lips around the tip of Arthur’s ear and sucked on it, his teeth grazing him. Shuddering, Arthur weakly raised an arm to point instead of speaking.

“Back there, huh?” murmured Alfred, his breath tickling against Arthur’s ear. “Come on, then.” Alfred pulled away, catching hold of the hand that had been clutching at the front of his shirt. Slowly, to the whining protest of Arthur, Alfred pulled away, drawing Arthur with him. However, when Arthur straightened, his knees trembled and he stumbled after Alfred when he pulled him towards the door. Thankfully, Alfred caught him before he could fall and he kept his hands on Arthur’s arms to steady him. “Are you okay to walk?” he asked, smirking. “Or do you want me to carry you through?”

“Just… give me a minute,” Arthur answered, still trying to catch his breath.

Alfred chuckled. “That good, huh?” He waited with Arthur, watching him all the while. If Arthur’s cheeks hadn’t already been red from his arousal, he would have been sure he was blushing. As it was, he ducked his head a little. That earned him another chuckle and gentle fingers tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. His breath caught at that and he straightened, staring at Alfred with wide eyes. Alfred smiled at him, his eyes darting all over Arthur’s face, as if he was trying to take in every detail at once. “Ready?” When Arthur nodded, unable to speak, Alfred grinned. “Come on, then - let me show you how much I missed you.”

Smiling, Arthur followed him through, gripping his hand tightly. But, having calmed enough, Arthur began to think about the situation. He was just about to have sex with Alfred who had had sex with someone else only the night before. And he was the one who had betrayed and upset Matthew so much. Should he really be doing this? After all, not only was Alfred still dealing with everything he’d gone through the past few months, Arthur hadn’t had the chance to truly get over being rejected a second time. With Matthew’s frequent visits, he had had hardly had a moment to himself.

They had barely reached the hall when Arthur slipped from Alfred’s grip. Startled, Alfred whirled around, probably thinking Arthur had fallen. Arthur stepped back to lean against the wall, eyeing him. Alfred blinked. “Artie? What’s-?”

“We can’t do this,” he said, looking away. Arthur couldn’t stand to see the hurt and disappointment in those eyes.

“What? What do you mean?”

“I can’t have sex with you, Alfred.” There was a pause. When the silence got too much for him, Arthur looked up; he swallowed when he saw Alfred’s watery eyes. “Oh, Alfred,” he whispered, his heart hurting.

“You were all for it a minute ago!” Alfred cried, reaching for him. Arthur flinched away and he stopped, pulling his hands to his chest as if he had been physically hurt. “Why can't you…?”

“You just had sex with Ivan yesterday,” Arthur said. “What are you going to do when you go home and he’s on your doorstep? Will you turn him away? Or will you let him in to comfort him?”

Looking uncomfortable, Alfred tried to protest. “I- Of course I wouldn’t!” But the fact he couldn’t look Arthur in the eyes told him everything he needed to know.

“I… I don't want just casual sex, Alfred,” Arthur told him, sadly. “Not with you. I realised that during the months I didn’t see you. But I can't be with you if there's a chance that you’ll cheat on me. I can't do-”

“No, I wouldn't!” Alfred exclaimed. “I wouldn’t _cheat_ on you. Not _you_.”

“And yet you were able to do that, to _betray_ your own cousin. I won’t do the same.”

Eyes wide, Alfred’s jaw dropped. “You… You really _are_ dating-”

“No. I’m not,” Arthur said, firmly. “But I won’t do that to a friend. Matthew’s been through enough - he doesn’t need to feel betrayed by me, too.”

“Then… Then we can keep it a secret?” Alfred was beginning to sound desperate.

“You need to get Ivan out of your system,” Arthur explained, trying to sound kind rather than exasperated. He wasn’t sure if he managed that. “And I still need time after Kiku. We can’t just dive into this. Not again. I’m sorry.”

“ _Please_!” Alfred begged, stepping towards Arthur.

Frantically shaking his head, Arthur backed away, sliding along the wall. He clutched at the living room’s doorway. “I’m sorry, Alfred,” he repeated. Arthur hesitantly peered up at him, biting his lip, trying not to catch his eye. But he could see Alfred’s distraught expression and it hurt to look at. He wanted nothing more than to give into Alfred, to let him draw him closer, to fall into bed with him and clutch him close. Resisting, Arthur looked away, down at the floor. “Please, Alfred… Please, go.”

“‘Go’? Alfred echoed, sounding faint.

“Please.”

Silence fell. Arthur stared at his carpet. Eventually, his vision of the grey fibres was obscured by a pair of legs striding along the hall. Arthur kept very still, holding himself back from reaching out to Alfred, begging him to stay. He heard the handle of the front door click as Alfred opened it and he chanced a look as Alfred opened it.

Before he left, Alfred paused and Arthur’s heart leapt into his throat. Arthur pressed his lips together in order to stop himself from saying anything. For a moment, Alfred only looked at him, eyes scanning him up and down, as if he was memorising everything about Arthur that he could. Then he took a breath and said, “I want to be with you, Artie, so don’t ever think I won’t come back for you.”

It wasn’t long before the door swung shut behind him. Arthur stayed by the wall for a few more seconds. Eventually, he pushed himself away from it and stumbled into the living room on shaky legs. When he reached the couch, he clutched at the back of it, barely keeping himself upright. His chest hurt and he clutched at it, breathing still laboured. Arthur didn’t know whether he felt relief at Alfred’s exit or at his words or if he was still angry at him or if he was filled with hope or… Taking a deep breath, he squeezed his eyes closed and wished his persistent erection away, dismayed to realise that it hadn’t gone away. In fact, he wished a lot of things and he wasn’t sure which one he truly wanted.

Had Arthur done the right thing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I have when everything happens sort of vaguely planned out. (As in, in my notes, I have the months stuff happens in at each story.) For the next one, it doesn't happen till the end of July so I won't be posting the next one till then. Just thought I should warn you, heh.
> 
> (Some of the other ones also happen during NanoWrimo so I might be late writing that stuff... ^^")


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